A 13-story design hotel with an opaque-glass exterior on a jacaranda-lined block in swanky Recoleta. Winegrower César Catena’s 30-room newcomer occupies some of the country’s priciest real estate, a few blocks from Evita Perón’s final resting place. All rooms have balconies that overlook august apartments owned by Argentina’s most patrician families.

Six tented suites on the edge of a lagoon in a 450,000-acre private game reserve. A contemporary interpretation of the classic safari aesthetic, seamlessly integrated into the natural environment. Each suite is individually decorated in calming colors that mirror the sun-bleached landscape.

Fasano Boa Vista, Porto Feliz, Brazil

Seventy rooms in a tranquil, leafy, sprawling property minutes from Sisowath Quay, the Royal Palace, and the National Museum. Read More

Ritz-Carlton Toronto

The hotel draws weekday suits, younger couples on spa retreats, and weekenders from neighboring cities in for a game (Toronto’s three major league teams play within punting distance) or a show (the theater district is a block away). On weekends, the crowd kicks up a fun ruckus at TOCA, a steak-focused locavore restaurant and bar, but the less-trafficked cocktail bar Deq is a better bet; its patio features a fire pit in summer, and the cozy fireplace nook is the nicest spot in the hotel.

A historic downtown hotel with 156 rooms and suites and a prime location—across the street from the Vancouver Art Gallery, one block from the famous shops of Robson Street, and within walking distance of Stanley Park. Georgian Revival elegance with a Papa Hemingway feel—lots of burnished wood paneling, clean lines, and an extensive modern and contemporary Canadian art collection.

Fourteen sleek cottages on a 140-acre plantation that’s been harvesting cocoa since the 1700s. The estate is owned by Hotel Chocolat, the U.K. confectioner, and the buildings’ dark-wood floors and whitewashed walls are reminiscent of the brand’s elegant stores. Instead of colorful Caribbean kitsch there’s an understated luxury with a hint of sex appeal.

A revamped late-1960s resort with 22 cottages on a 115-acre private island in the Grenadines, 20 minutes by boat from Union Island. Robinson Crusoe with deep pockets—local stone (called bluebitch...go figure) and wood, an open-air beach bar with a thatched roof, and a view over the reef that’s so breathtaking it could be a screen saver.

A 57-room hotel fashioned from a 1915 cold-storage plant near Puerto Natales, gateway to Torres del Paine National Park. Estancias once shipped their sheep to the frigorífico, where hundreds of workers prepared the meat, wool, and hide for export to Europe. Governed by strict conservation rules, Chilean architect Pedro Kovacic left the brickwork and still-functioning machinery intact and installed a funicular that rises soundlessly from the hotel’s entrance—the old tannery and herding pens—to the reception area, a glass cube suspended above century-old pulleys, pumps, and pipes. Ample guest rooms are decorated with Edwardian-style good taste (mahogany writing desks, brass side lamps), and a glass wall overlooks the wind-whipped shore of Last Hope Sound.

A luxe mountain lodge with 24 suites, situated where three valleys meet in the Chilean Cordillera, less than three hours from Santiago and near the Argentine border. A sleek wooden structure, from Chile’s NOI chain, with pine walls and hardwood floors. Volcanic stone, found wood, and handwoven blankets and rugs decorate the minimalist space; floor-to-ceiling windows face a spectacular tri-valley vista. Nooks and terraces of all sizes provide the setting for a bar, lounge, library, open fireplace, and game room.

A 312-room hotel in a glass-and-chrome tower above a luxury mall in Kowloon, a half-hour from the airport. The building looms over the landscape like the lair of one of Batman’s villains and wouldn’t look out of place in Dubai. Inside, everything that stood still has been plated with marble or travertine (including the elevator handrails). The 1980s power-decorating effect isn’t necessarily tacky, just very corporate, with lots of black glass, taupe silks, dark woods, and chrome.

A super-chic 28-story hotel with 307 rooms, across the street from the Xintiandi shopping and eating hub. Spare and mod, with a few special touches such as the curved, woody hallways decorated with commissioned art illustrating such Chinese sayings as “a crane standing among the chickens”—that is, a person who stands out from the crowd.

An intimate 14-room beach resort and spa hidden down a dirt path in the fishing village of Manzanillo del Mar, 15 minutes by taxi north of Cartagena’s old walled city. Tropical beach lodge, with an emphasis on natural elements—thatched roofs, stone walls and floors, driftwood chairs, and lots of bamboo.

A 248-room design hotel in Zlatni Rat (“Golden Cape”) Forest Park, a coastal reserve on the Istrian Peninsula. The showpiece town of Rovinj is a short stroll away. A contempo take on a classic 1970s Adriatic resort hotel, designed down to the deck chairs by an all-star team with Croatian architectural studio 3LHD at its helm. The gleaming-white Y-shaped building rises out of the forest like a landlocked cruise ship; light-flooded, airy interiors incorporate flowing beige-golden fabrics, hanging gardens, rich murals, and an ethereal suspended steel sculpture in the six-story lobby.

A 44-unit design hotel in the remote mountains of the eastern Czech Republic, near some of the country’s best links. Urban cool in a pastoral setting—raw concrete, hard angles, lots of black and white with touches of bright color. Well-chosen artworks in public spaces feature names such as Damien Hirst, Henry Moore, and Basquiat. Sleek bedrooms emphasize space and light with little decoration and tall picture windows.

A 31-room, three-story 1926 mansion in old Quito, the first city to make UNESCO’s World Heritage List. The third-floor wraparound terrace overlooks Plaza San Francisco and La Compañía, a seventeenth-century Jesuit cathedral widely considered to be among South America’s most beautiful. Newly restored Art Nouveau elegance. The hand-painted ceilings are original, as are trims, friezes, and murals. Antique chandeliers light pre-Columbian ceramics on loan from the Casa del Alabado museum, and a glass-enclosed courtyard yields flowers for guest rooms and hallway tables, splashing tropical colors on the otherwise muted palate. The high-ceilinged rooms have pale carpets, heavy golden drapes, Osborne & Little wallpaper, and Statuarietto marble bathrooms.

An iconic hotel, built on a granite cliff facing Elephantine Island in 1899. A three-year makeover by the Sofitel chain has reduced the number of rooms by half and increased the proportion of suites. The colonial-era palace has 76 rooms with gold and maroon interiors and sunset Nile views; the modern tower wing has 62 rooms, all with Nile-facing balconies, and a sumptuous new spa. Rooms have deep tubs or rain showers, all with Hermès toiletries. If you’ve ever been tempted to pack a vintage tuxedo or evening gown, this place provides the perfect backdrop. The restored 1902 restaurant, modeled after Cairo’s Ibn Tulun mosque, looks like a film set for Death on the Nile. Art Deco meets Mamluk glamour in the chandeliered palace, its halls adorned with photographs of royals, artists, and other luminaries who’ve stayed here. The tower’s contemporary decor echoes ancient Egyptian motifs.

A locavore kitchen with 26 guest rooms in a limestone seventeenth-century manor house and redbrick dependency buildings 13 miles from Southampton. It’s surrounded by kitchen gardens, open fields, and one of Britain’s national treasures, New Forest National Park. English-country-house shabby-chic complete with worn kilims, artfully mismatched furniture, and, in the front hall, lined-up wellies and a watering can.

A beyond opulent 294-room hotel in a vast Belle Époque building formerly occupied by the Ministry of Defence. The property is a block from the Thames and a short stroll from Trafalgar Square, St. James’s Park, and the theaters of the West End. The look: A study in polished marble and Baccarat crystal that just manages not to stray into bling. The lobby lounge sets the tone with a 1,001-bulb chandelier, velvet chairs, and petal-perfect flower arrangements. The Northall restaurant has a marble bar and leather banquettes; the striped pillars of the Massimo Restaurant & Oyster Bar recall Siena’s Duomo; and things go Art Deco in the David Collins–designed cocktail bar. Rooms have a masculine feel (neutral palette, dark walnut, chrome Deco touches). The impeccable marble bathrooms have separate showers and underfloor heating.

The latest satellite in the Dorchester’s expanding “Collection” is fundamentally a steak joint with rooms. Much of the public area is gobbled up by Cut, Wolfgang Puck’s gastro-temple dedicated to the worshipful consumption of hefty slabs of beef. The largely petro-dollar clientele is most evident at Bar 45, on the mezzanine, where Middle Eastern lovelies pack the red leather seating. The guest room layout optimizes all available space, especially in the luxurious bathroom with its marble-encased tub and separate rain shower, in-mirror TV, and high-tech Japanese toilet. Touch-screen phones control the shades, which open onto perfect Hyde Park views.

A just-renovated 1899 hotel with 331 rooms in Westminster, close to the abbey, Houses of Parliament, and Big Ben. The six-story redbrick building is arrayed around a tree-planted open courtyard. A theatrical mise-en-scène, opening with a delicious confection of a lobby exuberantly devised by a Victorian set designer—rococo plaster ceiling, grand staircase sweeping up to balustraded balconies, sparkling chandeliers, and marble floors and fireplaces. Backstage: Guest rooms are soothing with light-green walls, fabric shutters, and botanical prints; the bar and restaurants are warm and casual.

A refurbished nineteenth-century railway hotel, now managed by Marriott, with 38 rooms in the historic wing and a new 207-room annex. High Victorian with soaring ceilings, dazzling colors, and ecclesiastical architectural details in the original building; drably contemporary in the annex.

Zetter Townhouse

A puckishly hip ten-room hotel opened by Anselme Selosse, one of the great small Champagne makers, in a handsome nineteenth-century neoclassical manor house with sweeping views of the vineyards. Read More

A 28-room nineteenth-century wine estate—with a limestone château, grape pickers’ cottages, and an orangerie—located a mile from the Canal du Midi in Languedoc and surrounded by vineyards. Rooms are light and airy, with high ceilings and dove-gray walls. Each is individually designed with a mix of traditional and modern French furniture.

Thirty-four rooms on a quiet residential street in the sixth arrondissement, steps from the Luxembourg Gardens and St-Germain-des-Prés. Nineteenth-century Paris salon revisited, with touches of mid-century modernism (note the Jens Risom chairs) and oversized Apple monitors. Each floor is inspired by a different chapter in the life of the beautiful Empire–era socialite Juliette Récamier (who was immortalized by the painter Jacques-Louis David) and is adorned with portraits of her closest companions, from her best friend Madame de Staël to her lover Chateaubriand. The relaxing but small rooms are decorated in mauve, lavender, or blue with ornate moldings. The well-appointed bathrooms are tiled with mosaics.

A 57-room high-design aerie conveniently located in a former hôtel particulier almost next door to the Grand and Petit Palais. Black, white, and trompe l’oeil. A serene, playful modernity pervades the public spaces—​white slip-covered chairs and sofas whose legs seem to float (they are actually supported by central pedestals); a passageway done entirely in silver foil.

A 138-room ultramodern palace on the rue St-Honoré. Rooms are plush and technologically state-of-the-art. This luxury hotel for the new millennium has a vaguely Oriental, perceptibly feminine, history-of-modern-fashion aesthetic—no boilerplate faux-château gilt trip here. Behind the Art Deco facade you’ll find a sleek sumptuousness in the all-white dining room by Patrick Jouin and Sanjit Manku, the low-lit bar sculpted from a nine-ton block of gray Spanish marble, and the guest rooms swathed in neutrals with bright flourishes.

Forty-eight delightfully renovated rooms and suites in a garden-surrounded neoclassical mansion built in 1892 in the elegant sixteenth arrondissement. The hotel is steps from the Place Victor Hugo and a short walk from the Champs-Élysées and the Bois de Boulogne. Rich yet irreverent, Napoleon III whimsically interpreted by British designer Bambi Sloan. Rooms and suites, many with Juliet balconies (aah, Paris), are all individually and boldly decorated in jewel-like colors and with great attention to both comfort and style.

A distinctively modern 88-room, Nordic-style chalet with ski-in/ski-out access to the Trois Vallées. At 7,545 feet, this is the highest resort in the Alps (translation: great snow). Slick and Scandinavian-inspired, with lots of light-colored natural wood and stone, faux fur, and playful touches (such as the giant snowflake cutouts and stylized reindeer heads mounted on lounge walls). The laid-back bar/library and cozy lounge areas have large sofas and log fires.

A revamped 1958 landmark (the former Olympic Palace), with 79 rooms in the center of Athens, two blocks from the Parliament. Sexy salvage—Brazilian designers Humberto and Fernando Campana mixed reclaimed furniture with contemporary art by Jenny Holzer and Laurie Anderson and their own offbeat designs. Lobby walls are a collage of deconstructed chairs and desks; low-lit corridors are clad in bark cloth; the small spa and gym are coated in glittering PVC, an homage to the basement’s past life as a disco. Bedrooms are sparer, with wall decorations inspired by souvenir shops.

An eighteenth-century sponge and silver market converted into a five-room hotel in a landmarked district. Canopied daybeds on the rooftop terrace overlook the neoclassical mansions and oversized yachts of the horseshoe harbor. Decorated with sumptuous silks, carved headboards, and antique prints, each room is inspired by a different trade route: Ottoman, Venetian, Arabian, and Alexandrian. Original flagstone floors and arches blend with modern luxuries (percale linens, rain showers).

A lush 28-acre resort with 314 rooms and suites, seven restaurants and bars, a 34,000-square-foot spa, and indoor and outdoor pools. The palatial complex of 9 two- and three-story edifices is arrayed along scenic Bambolim Bay, 25 minutes from Goa’s airport. Read More

A 202-room stainless steel–and-glass low-rise tower close to the international airport (but far from downtown New Delhi). Rooms overlook a central reflecting pool or an acre of landscaped gardens; a separate tower houses the lobby, restaurants, a piano bar, and a cigar lounge. Unobtrusively neutral with accents in cardinal red and occasional nods to tradition (silk embroidery, mother-of-pearl inlay). The diverse artwork is commissioned through a program supporting contemporary Indian artists. At night, the reflecting pool is lit by torches that seem to float upon the water.

An opulent new 260-room high-rise in New Delhi’s diplomatic district. Over-the-top fin-de-siècle maharaja luxe—double-height reception rooms hung with massive chandeliers and filled with gilded furniture, the couches plumped with elaborately brocaded pillows, tables laden with vast urns of flowers, and piccolo variations of the same played through the foyers and guest rooms.

A five-story, 237-unit hotel built around a lagoon pool on one of the best stretches of the Seminyak shoreline; 76 rooms in the main wing face the sea. The prime location is within walking distance of many of the island’s best new restaurants on booming Jalan Petitenget. Futuristic—more South Beach than Balinese village—with an emphasis on natural woods and gray volcanic stone. The spa is an architectural tour de force, with rounded corners, recessed blue lighting, and the aura of an elegant spaceship.

A 15-room country retreat on a Georgian estate in Laois (pronounced leash), an hour and a half from Dublin. Eighteenth-century elegance: oil paintings of the former lords and ladies of the house, tufted banquettes, glittery chandeliers, elaborate cornices and friezes, and a secret door that leads to a glass conservatory decorated with Greco-Roman statues.

A 111-room new-build on the rim of the Ramon Crater, in the heart of the Negev Desert, a two-hour drive from Tel Aviv. The 40 one- and two-story buildings are clustered on 12 acres, and most rooms face the 24-mile-long crater. An infinity pool seems to flow into the crater itself. Read More

Two nineteenth-century villas on the Italian Riviera with hilltop views of the Ligurian Sea. The Byzantine-domed Villa della Pergola has large balconies and a sweeping white-marble staircase; the Villino della Pergola resembles an Indian plantation house, with parquet floors and shaded terraces. The showstopper is the two-acre garden, with its wisteria-covered pergolas, little fountains, quiet leafy areas, and climbing roses.

A 100-room grande dame on the river Arno at one of Florence’s most enviable addresses. Renaissance nostalgia—frescoed walls, rooms draped in velvet, gilded mirrors the size of barn doors. Views of the river are the main event.

A 95-room manse in the heart of Milan’s fashion district. The A-shaped (from the air) 1937 rationalist-style building also houses Armani concept stores. The wow factor is the incredible attention to detail. Armani is said to have designed or approved everything himself, down to the length of the bath towels, the mother-of-pearl doors, the beige leather-lined walls, the backlit headboards.

A restored eleventh-century fortress overlooking Tuscany’s Val d’Orcia, with Monte Amiata sleeping in the background. The 46 rooms are divided between the original castello and a new wing that also houses a jewel-in-the-crown thermal spa. Siena is a half-hour drive away. Medieval castle on the outside, Italian renaissance on the inside, with views framed by colonnaded arches. Painted ceilings, heavy silk curtains, marble bathrooms, and decorative fireplaces conjure up the past, while flat-screen TVs ground you in the present. All rooms have views of the surrounding hills.

Twenty-nine rooms in a superbly renovated nineteenth-century building on a quiet street in Rome’s historic center. Rooms are distributed around a light-flooded central atrium with white wrought-iron balustrades. Communal spaces are rigorously black-and-white; contemporary paintings and sculptures add splashes of color and wit. Room decor is warmer, with fabric-covered walls and carpets in relaxing taupe, heavy dark-blue velvet drapes right out of Gone With the Wind, and a headboard library stocked with art books.

A ten-room octagonal Art Nouveau villa set high on a bluff overlooking the sea. The historic center of Alghero, a fortified sixteenth-century Aragonese showpiece, is a short walk away, and the town is a gateway to Sardinia’s beautiful and lesser-known western beaches.

Six tents and a dining lounge at the top of a valley in the 55,000-acre Naboisho Conservancy. The camp is unusually family-friendly, with Masai bodyguards who entertain youngsters too restless for game drives. Tents with king-size beds have indoor showers and toilets, outdoor decks, and space for children’s beds. Inside, white-wood laminate floors and campaign-style white-canvas ceilings showcase well-curated Moroccan kilims and Congolese kuba cloths.

Just 25 minutes from Nairobi’s safari hub of Wilson Airport, this luxurious private estate bordering a giraffe sanctuary in the green Langata district has six rooms in the main house and seven rooms in a converted stable. Cozy, contemporary colonial with fireplaces, bronze animal sculptures, leather couches and chairs, flowery curtains, and Oriental carpets.

An oasis of 169 candy-colored rooms within an 18-floor tower overlooking Kuwait Bay. Branded, from the towels to the espresso cups; even the bottom of the tiled swimming pool is striped like a Missoni blanket. Higher-grade rooms have furnishings by architectural heavyweights Eero Saarinen and Hans J. Wegner.

A 28-room hotel with a landmark eighteenth-century house as its linchpin, located on Luxembourg City’s main square. Notable features include black-and-white marble baths with Penhaligon’s amenities, heated towel racks, and tub-and-shower combos at a time when European hotel renovations are pushing the bathtub toward extinction. Neo-Baroque furniture and lots of mirrors add shimmer to sturdy bourgeois bones, the latter showing through in the oak banisters, Art Nouveau stained-glass windows, and exposed limed beams in some of the third-floor rooms. Result: a daringly modern renovation that takes a leaf from Philippe Starck’s Royal Monceau Raffles Paris.

An eco-friendly resort with 97 thatched-roof villas in the southern Maldives. Beachfront villas are backed by a mangrove forest; overwater villas have decks leading to a blue lagoon. Ian Schrager in an Out of Africa mood—pistachio daybeds; outdoor rain showers and tubs; rooftop decks for stargazing.

This 58-room resort overlooking the Adriatic is actually two distinct properties joined by a narrow isthmus. The stone houses of the fortified island date back to the fifteenth century, and the eight-room mainland villa was built in 1934 as a summer residence for the Yugoslav royal family. Mediterranean Zen—oak parquet floors covered with leather-edged jute rugs, Shaker-style chairs, natural linen sofas, stylized fishermen’s lamps, and exposed beams and stone walls. Spacious bathrooms come with deep soaking tubs, stone-floored showers, and double vanities. Rooms at the Villa Miloer are more dressed up, with ethanol-burning fireplaces, potted orchids, and cocoa silk-tweed sofas with suede pillows.

A series of low-slung terra-cotta-colored bungalows next to Menara Gardens, a 220-acre rosebush-strewn patch of green. The 141-room hotel is ten minutes from the airport and five minutes by taxi from Djemaa el Fna Square. Rooms have private balconies. There are some lovely touches, such as the filigreed-silver cabinets on each floor’s landing, but the cream-and-taupe palette will disappoint Moroccan maximalists.

An 1896 neo-Renaissance landmark on a bend of the Amstel River in central Amsterdam. Owned by Heineken, the 111-room hotel has expanded, following a two-year renovation, into neighboring buildings, including a former bank from the same era. Coral-, Prussian blue– or saffron-tinted rooms are decorated with details of Old Master paintings—lush tulips or a lace handkerchief, say—blown up to wall size.

Five luxury suites annexed to a newly restored Victorian homestead built in the 1920s for the local bishop. The 20-acre private estate is five minutes by car from the center of artsy-craftsy Nelson and within easy reach of the national parks and beaches for which this South Island region is famous. Wedding-album perfect right down to the 1877 working chapel. Fresh flowers are everywhere, and the antique safe is so large you can climb right in. Look closely in the chapel and you’ll see how the local Arts and Crafts movement was influenced by Maori motifs.

A 178-room hotel on Lake Wakatipu, five minutes by car from the nearest airport and ten minutes by water taxi from Queenstown, New Zealand’s buzzy adventure capital. Asian-inspired serenity with Maori touches.

A 36-room, four-story hotel on Calle Uruguay in the core of the nightlife district. Drafted by local firm Mallol y Mallol, the Manrey is a Schrager-esque mix of whimsy and clean lines—chandeliers resemble giant loops of construction paper, and a life-size iron horse by Eduardo Navarro rears in the lobby. Rooms, accessed via skinny hallways lined with backlit white panels, have a pared-down aesthetic and a color scheme of black, white, chrome, burnished silver, and concrete gray.

A 301-room glass tower on the edge of San Isidro, Lima’s financial district. The first Westin in South America is also the tallest building in Peru, and from the high-design glass exterior to the smart escalators, state-of-the-art is not a subtle notion here. Tony Chi’s glitzy interiors incorporate mahogany and leather amid all the shiny metal. Rooms have floor-to-ceiling windows, leather desk chairs, and oversized bathrooms with marble double sinks. Peruvian textiles help preserve a sense of place.

A 22-suite wine resort in the gentle hills of Alentejo, less than an hour east of Lisbon. All suites have terraces with fireplaces; some have bedroom ceilings that open to the stars. Minimalist Mediterranean—whitewashed villas, leafy patios, interiors of natural slate and eucalyptus wood.

A 32-acre estate with seven guest rooms in a converted country house. The property is an hour from Lisbon and a ten-minute drive from the city of Évora, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Rustic chic accented with quirky antiques (an 1867 Hornung & Møller piano in the lounge, vintage neon signs by the circular pool).

InterContinental Porto

A 203-room new-build on the site of the old Hotel Minsk, within a mile’s stroll of the Kremlin and a straight shot by car or train from Sheremetyevo International Airport (no small plus in traffic-clogged Moscow). The look: Art Deco and Russian avant-garde inspired, with lots of glass.

A sleek seven-story, 45-room hotel with a tidy Bauhaus facade overlooking Studentski Trg, one of the city’s prettiest squares. It has a terrific location steps from Knez Mihailova, a trendy pedestrian street, and Kalemegdan Fortress, at the confluence of the Danube and Sava rivers. Designed by Brazilian architect Isay Weinfeld, Square Nine gives a dose of modernity to the block without jarring its Secessionist neighbors. The open lobby has the same low lighting, parquet floors, local antiques, and Danish modern–style furniture found in the guest rooms. Walls are hung with sepia postcards of Belgrade—sounds tacky, looks great—and covered with natural linen or cumaru-wood paneling.

Eighty-six villas, all with butlers and private plunge pools, set along cement “streets” for golf carts that ferry guests up and down a stony green hill falling to a powdery white sand beach. Shared facilities include two pools and a spa with 13 treatment pavilions. The cluster of roofs poking out of the tropical terrain looks uncannily like a luxury vision of a Brazilian favela. Fortunately, villas are spacious and modern with huge private decks and picture windows even for the bathtub; carpets and textiles with coral or leafy patterns echo the natural environment.

Thirteen suites with kitchenettes in a sixteenth-century pedigreed palace in the heart of Ljubljana. The small, elegant reception area and lounges have polished stone floors and are furnished with antique silver coffee pots and vases of white lilies. Rooms have blond oak-parquet floors and traditional furnishings (leather-topped desks, damask-upholstered sofas). Baths come with large soaking tubs—some rooms have hot tubs and separate showers.

A 26-room hotel in a pre-Cubist nineteenth-century building on the edge of the old town. The white-painted facade has cool glamour when the sun goes down. Inside, you get a Slavic take on mid-century Palm Springs style: gold-on-gold geometric wallpaper, plush carpets, wood-grained built-ins, and table lamps like pretty bouquets of wired silk cocoons. Spacious baths come with L’Occitane toiletries and separate tubs or showers.

A 21-suite historic property on 11-plus acres of landscaped gardens in semi-rural Constantia, the Cape’s oldest wine-growing valley. The Alphen, a national monument dating back to the late seventeenth century, has hosted the likes of Mark Twain and Captain Cook, and its role in Cape history is a colorful one. If these whitewashed walls could speak, they’d no doubt tell stories of the political intrigue and hedonistic parties for which the property was known. Read More

A design-conscious hotel with 35 rooms in Cape Town’s V&A Waterfront. Guest rooms are decorated in a soothing palette of silver, gray, and taupe. Porcelain-tiled bathrooms have restored antique vanities and original artwork.

A 74-room urban sanctuary five minutes by foot from the Plaza de Catalunya. Strenuously fashionable, from the strangely eyeball-like orbs that cascade over the facade, to the all-black lobby, to the rooftop terrace.

Ten quiet rooms in Córdoba’s cobblestoned historic quarter, a few steps from the famous Mezquita. Cozily pretty, with antiques scattered throughout the public spaces and flowers spilling over the interior courtyards.

A sprawling 19-room hotel and spa on 173 forested acres three miles from the beaches of the Costa Brava and 40 miles from Barcelona International Airport. A Baroque-inspired modernist fantasy, its towered silhouette rising like a fever dream out of the pine-clad hills.

A converted Baroque-Romanesque abbey surrounded by vineyards, a two-hour drive north of Madrid. Medieval chic. Vaulted ceilings, thick stone walls, and a silent cloister are made bright and airy thanks to modern furniture, warm wood, and soaring windows.

The palacio you always wished your great-grandparents had had the good sense to purchase, set smack in the historic center of Palma de Mallorca. Upscale Mediterranean, with just enough English country house to suggest that its owners may have another home in the Cotswolds—this is the kind of genteel taste that can only be inherited.

A 99-room landmark with a glamorous past (Liz Taylor, Grace Kelly, and even Albert Schweitzer slept here), recently reopened after a two-year renovation, in the heart of pretty little Bern. This handsome sandstone mansion turned hotel appears to have changed little since the early 1900s—until you step into the small lobby and encounter the trapezoidal lit-from-within white-onyx reception desk. The Park Avenue goes postmodern vibe is further enhanced by blond-oak herringbone floors; crystal chandeliers; and an anthracite, bone, and taupe decor.

A 70-room timber-and-glass low-rise set on the highest point of the tiny village of Surlej, three miles from St. Moritz. A glass-enclosed bridge connects the hotel to the Corvatsch cable car, which ascends to 10,800 feet. Modern and pared-down with traditional Swiss touches—antlers, a woodpile under the staircase, cowhide couches, sheepskin throws. Rooms have a balcony or a garden patio—and there might be a bedside copy of Nietzsche’s Thus Spake Zarathustra (in German) for long, dark, thoughtful nights.

A 19-room glass-fronted high-design hotel in the shadow of the Matterhorn, steps from the terminus of the Glacier Express train. SoHo loft meets Swiss chalet. Vaulted interiors are decked out in brushed stainless steel, distressed leather, and recycled doodads, such as the chandeliers constructed from trumpets, violins, strands of silver beads, and disco balls in recognition of the hotel’s cultural-center underpinnings.

A luxury lodge with 12 chalets on a boulder-strewn hilltop—a prime location for observing the annual wildebeest migration. Four-bed chalets are suitable for families with children. California in the Serengeti—a bar furnished with tractor seats, a central lounge with plush white couches and African artifacts.

Sixty-six villas scattered over an 80-acre compound. All have butler service and plunge pools; some open directly onto a mile-long white sand beach flanked by coconut palms. A simplified blend of styles—Swahili, Omani, Indian, British colonial—reflecting the island’s mix of influences. The minimalist rooms have huge mosquito-netted beds and freestanding egg-shaped tubs.

Fusing a restored nineteenth-century Swahili sultan’s palace and Zanzibar’s first photographic studio, this multi-storied small hotel has an inner courtyard, six unique antiques-filled rooms, and one of Zanzibar’s best restaurants. Romantic, with blue-, pink-, and violet-painted walls, rich textiles, deep baths, and high beds.

Ninety-four rooms in a high-rise just off the business district’s main drag. The Hansar’s immediate neighbors are mostly condominiums, but the St. Regis and the Four Seasons are practically next door. The open-air hallways and the street-view terrace with lap pool wouldn’t look out of place across from Ipanema Beach, yet dark-wood accents and raw-silk walls remind you where you are. Too bad the views are mostly of other people’s balconies and laundry.

A 227-room tower off Rajadamri Road in the heart of Bangkok’s luxury shopping and business district. Elegant but sterile, with a palette of beige, silver, gray, and white, and the requisite silk paneling rendered in luxurious neutrals.

A restored landmark building with 23 rooms and a prime waterfront location in the hopping party-and-restaurant district of Ortaköy. Palatial and airy, with wraparound balconies and light-filled interiors in a pale, subdued palette. Custom furnishings by Autoban include low-slung divans and brass “pill” lamps in the award-winning Turkish design team’s signature mid-century-modern style.

Six solar-powered chalets on stilts (with two more in the works) overlooking the grassland savanna and volcanic crater fields of Queen Elizabeth National Park. The haunting blue silhouettes of the Rwenzori Mountains rise in the distance. Thatch ceilings and corrugated-iron roofs blend into the farm community that surrounds this former coffee-processing plant. Chalet interiors are more Scandinavian than African, with clean lines and pale-wood surfaces.

A 66-floor Xanadu in a five-tower office-condo complex owned by a cousin of the ruler of Abu Dhabi. Bespoke touches include agate-lined elevators and a lobby ceiling dome inlaid with Czech crystals. Flanked by other futuristic buildings, the hotel is urban in ambience but backs onto a small beach. The 382 rooms have floor-to-ceiling windows and vistas of the Persian Gulf.

Shuttered for two years to undergo a top-to-bottom reno, Hollywood royalty’s favorite hideout reemerged last fall with a La Prairie spa, a pricey Wolfgang Puck restaurant, and 103 sumptuously furnished rooms and suites (up from 91). A collection of graceful Spanish mission-style buildings, with a fresh coat of “Bel-Air pink” paint, nuzzled against the side of a canyon. Twelve acres of fragrant gardens were spiffed up too, but they seem deliciously unchanged since the hotel opened in 1946, with their burbling fountains, stone cherubs, and trysting spots aplenty. Same goes for the famed pool—a simple, perfect oval that beckons year-round (it’s kept at 82 degrees in winter). Every other inch of the hotel has been utterly remade. Most rooms are creamy confections: ivory-colored walls and marble floors, and ceilings paneled in bleached oak. The many Art Deco flourishes—black-and-white floral curtains, for one—bring to mind the boudoir of a ’50s starlet (fitting, since most of them stayed here at some point). Sky-lit bathrooms are stockpiled with La Prairie toiletries. Canyon view and loft suites are just as swank, if fairly generic.

A renovated 285-room hotel in a prime Gold Coast location, a short walk from Lake Michigan and the Magnificent Mile. Contemporary elegance with a dash of whimsy. The brick facade is all that remains unchanged of the 86-year-old Ambassador East following Ian Schrager’s top-to-bottom redo. The lobby’s classic moldings and columns are painted in the softest of whites, giving the space the feel of a stately cloud. The Pump Room, a dark and clubby celebrity haunt since the 1930s, is now an open and airy Jean-Georges Vongerichten restaurant, with a galaxy of gently glowing orbs suspended like planets throughout. Bright guest rooms are decorated Zen style, with bare walls, low platform beds, and bathrooms that glisten in porcelain whiteness.

A renovated 135-room hotel on Lee Circle, away from the hubbub of the French Quarter and a short walk to the Superdome, the Convention Center, and New Orleans’s underrated museums. Streamlined and essential, with bursts of color—IKEA meets Marimekko.

A 166-room, $45-million renovation of the century-old Audubon Building, in the northwest corner of the French Quarter close to the Superdome. The Burgundy Bar is a study in bordello chic, with deep-red banquettes and Venetian plaster walls; the restaurant is bathed in white. Hand-painted murals of old New Orleans decorate the eight-story stairwell; minimalist modern guest rooms are plain but comfortable, with indigo ceilings and white-lacquered furniture.

A glassy Inner Harbor 256-room tower that easily outdoes every other hotel in town. Plush-but-generic rooms are secondary to an excellent restaurant and fourth-floor infinity pool backed by a bi-level sundeck and grill. Very beige, although the lobby’s six-foot quince-and-rose-filled flower arrangements impress, as do rooms’ huge bathrooms, which have walk-in showers, soaking tubs, and lots of sinkside space.

A souped-up 1950s motel with 19 cabins on the eastern tip of Long Island. The three-acre property is across the road from Montauk’s Fort Pond and a beach-cruiser ride from Ditch Plains, the East Coast’s best surf break. Rooms are simple—verging on spartan—and small, with cedar-plank walls, hammocks, oatmeal linen curtains, wicker bedsteads (sheets are deliciously soft), vintage photos of palm trees on the walls, and diminutive shower rooms with organic John Masters products. Fairy lights strung throughout the grounds add a festive feel.

A seven-room B&B on 46 acres of golden grassland about an hour and a half from both Austin and Houston. Owner Rachel Ashwell, mother of the Shabby Chic Couture brand (known for frills, rose prints, and banged-up pastel furniture), envisioned the kind of place where Marie Antoinette would stay if she went to Texas. Every window has a flower-print treatment, and every light is fitted with a pretty chandelier; vintage chiffon prom dresses hang on the walls; and beds are covered in linens so sumptuous that you can hardly see your partner across the California king.